


a rose from yesterday

by sleeplessmiles



Category: 12 Monkeys (TV)
Genre: Baby Fic, Finale spoilers, Gen, Post-2x13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-07-26 09:49:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7569514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleeplessmiles/pseuds/sleeplessmiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cassie’s baby is born in 2164, but that doesn’t mean they need to stay there.</p><p>(In which Cassie masters the art of sacrificing herself for the world <em>and</em> for her baby, simultaneously.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	a rose from yesterday

**Author's Note:**

> I still haven't fully processed the finale yet, but I'm already fascinated by the nuances of this. I've marked it as complete just in case I feel like continuing it, but for now it's a standalone.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!!
> 
> (Also, first 12 Monkeys fic on ao3!! How exciting!!)

 

 

**YEAR 2164**

_Two more corners._

Sprinting along the darkened corridor, her breath coming to her in short, sharp gasps, Cassie repeats the plan to herself to distract from the pain. Her _everything_ seems to be screaming out in agony, the rapid movements both foreign and abrasive to her beleaguered body, but she’d known this would happen. She’d known it would feel like this. It’s all part of the plan.

(That’s what you get for running around mere weeks after childbirth, apparently.)

She grits her teeth and pushes through it.

_Just two more._

Reaching the end of the corridor, she takes a hard right around the corner, relieved to find the path ahead clear of any cloaked figures. The stupid dress thing they’ve got her in is tangled with her own cloak around her ankles, but she barely even pauses to hoist it up before continuing on her frenzied journey. There are the beginnings of footsteps echoing behind her now, just as she’d expected, but she’d already gotten the headstart that she wanted. As long as she keeps up her current pace, they won’t catch her.

They won’t catch her.

They _won’t._

Cassie clutches her precious cargo even closer to her chest.

Shouts of _halt_ and _stop her_ and _Mother_ fill the air suddenly, signalling the urgency of the situation, but it only spurs her on faster and further. The pain is an ever-present burn now, but she can do nothing but push it to the back of her mind, focusing on one thing and one thing alone. 

Or, rather, one _person._

Pressed firmly to Cassie’s breast, her infant daughter makes an irate sound.

‘I know,’ Cassie pants, as gently as possible with her breathing as laboured as it is. It’s not much by way of comfort, but it’s all she can do right now. She strokes a hand over Felicity’s head anyway. A siren begins to sound and she struggles to match her footfalls to the noise, rhythmically chanting instructions in her mind.

_Just. One. More._

_Just. One. More._

_Just. One. More._

Despite her panic, she knows she probably shouldn’t worry too much at this point; she’s been planning this out carefully for months, now. It’s an airtight plan – had to be, with what’s at stake – and she’s had plenty of time to gather intel and data, plenty of time to ascertain her exact plan of attack.

In the end, the details fell into place with remarkable ease.

There had been no way for Cassie to deal with her situation early on – they’d had her closely guarded and monitored from the very first, suspecting self-harm and going to great lengths to protect her against it. But as her pregnancy progressed and she learned more about their plans for her child – their grotesque, _sickening_ plans – she became less convinced that that was the proper course of action after all. Once the baby reached 7 months of age, they informed her, they were to wean her off her mother and begin the process of The Teaching. As far as Cassie can tell, said Teaching involved raising the kid to be hellbent on the destruction of time, through a series of rituals and psychological methods and… torture, basically. Indoctrination and torture. She’d been violently ill for the rest of the week after learning this.   

But then, she’d discovered that the Witness had requested they not be time-tethered.

So while Cassie had been tethered herself – or, as she liked to call it, _tagged,_ like some sort of farm animal – her child was not to be. 

 _Gotcha, assholes._  

They’d exposed a glaring gap. If she could just splinter her child to an unknown time, the Army wouldn’t be able to track them. And they’d left the perfect opening for it: after the birth, and before they took her baby away for their sick indoctrination. That’s her one and only opportunity.

There was no way in hell Cassie was going to pass up the chance to exploit it. 

It’s not that she hasn’t second-guessed herself – God, of _course_ she has. She wonders every day at the potential selfishness of her actions, all dressed up in optimism and altruism. Because she can’t be like Ramse, can’t do what he did. She can’t put one life above all others. She _won’t_. She refuses.

But what choice does she have but to toe that fine, fine line – the one between sacrificing the world for one person and something _better_ , something healing? The line between being selfish and selflessly fixing this entire mess in the first place, even at great personal cost?

What choice does she have but to do her best to destroy the concept of The Witness at its very construction?

So Cassie planned. Find the right equipment. Find the necessary apparatus. Work out security checkpoints. Don’t rouse suspicion. And, most importantly, find a time to leave Felicity where she’d be safe from the Army’s manipulation, yet still cared for.

Find a Cassie who can deal with a daughter.

She knows she can’t send Felicity to a pre-2013 version of herself, before anything time travel related had even entered her life. Anything after 2015 is out too, what with the Army already hot on her trail by that point. And her younger self, the one in 2044, likely wouldn’t even ask too many questions before doing what she believed necessary. 

No need to wonder what _that_ might be.

So her only hope is a version of her younger self who believes in time travel, but who won’t act too drastically. Won’t… _eliminate_ Felicity before they can be sure it’s the right way to change the timeline. The only problem is, that particular version of herself is hardly in a good enough place to take care of _herself,_ let alone a baby. 

But it’s the only chance they’ve got.

Now, more than any other time in her entire life, Cassie must believe in herself. In every version of herself.

It’s their one shot.

Skidding around the last corner – _finally_ – Cassie draws to a halt in front of the distinctly familiar double doors, beyond which lies the machine at the centre of her plan. It’s old, for sure, probably outdated, and hasn’t been in use since long before Dr. Jones built Titan, but the Army saw fit to keep it functional regardless. A back-up, Cassie had guessed, in case the whole Titan plan went to shit.

No chance of that, with all of them charging into the trap like the naïve idiots they were. _Are._  

But right now, it’s Cassie’s ticket out of here.

Shifting Felicity to one arm and being careful not to jostle her any more than she has to, Cassie wrenches the door open. Just before she shuts it, she sees the Tall Man round the other end of the corridor, surrounded by other cloaked figures. He smiles.

‘You can’t run forever, Cassandra.’

‘Try me, asshole,’ she spits out, before slamming the door shut. Felicity shifts again in her arms, making an inquisitive gurgling noise.

 _Such a good baby,_ Cassie registers absently, eyes scanning the all-too-familiar time machine room for things to help barricade the door shut. Never fusses too much, never seems too perturbed by the ominous, shadowy figures in her life.

That’s almost certainly about to change. 

Pulling a hammer out of her pocket, she breaks off her copy of the key in the lock, before setting to work with a makeshift barricade. Tables, chairs, errant furniture – anything not bolted down, she drags over to wedge against the door. Felicity’s little eyes are fixed on Cassie’s face, little sounds spilling from her lips.

Her sweet, sweet baby. 

If only time were on their side for once.

Rushing back to the centre of the room, Cassie reaches into her pocket for the syringe she’d lifted from her doctors months ago, along with a version of Jones’ formula that she’d painstakingly tracked down. As soon as she spots the needle, Felicity begins to loudly vocalise her dissent.

Cassie doesn’t blame her.

Grimacing, she gently lays her down on a bench, draws the cloth away from the baby’s skin, and injects the formula. Felicity cries even louder still.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Cassie promises, trying to calm the fussing infant. The distressed expression on her daughter’s face makes her own chest burn with guilt. She drops the empty syringe to the ground. ‘Oh, I know, I know. I know it hurts. You’re just being so very brave, aren’t you?’

The door rattles, large thuds echoing through from the other side, and it’s immediately clear that her pursuers have caught up to her and are attempting to break into the room. But Cassie cares only about the baby in her arms, and their precious few moments left together. Her throat is clogging with tears, now.

‘Oh, my brave girl. My brave, brave girl.’

The banging increases in volume and intensity, setting Felicity off even more. Cassie cringes.

‘It’ll all be alright soon. I promise. You’ll be safe.’ She hoists Felicity up against her shoulder, cradling her close to her chest. The now-familiar warm weight calms her nerves, despite her daughter’s cries, and she tries to focus on that instead of her roiling stomach. 

‘Mommy’s going to look after you.’ 

 _‘Cassandra!’_ someone calls out. Cassie ignores them. 

‘But you have to be patient with me, okay? I’m going to be…’ Trailing off, Cassie thinks over how she’d been back then – paranoid and skittish and distrustful of everything. Completely and utterly unsure of herself. She sighs. 

‘…Different.’

Felicity is openly screaming now, tears streaking over her rapidly reddening face. Matching tears spill from Cassie’s eyes.

‘I know, I know. But I love you so, _so_ much. Never forget that, okay?’

_‘Open this door!’_

_You’re running out of time._

‘We’ll come for you. Me and your –’ Cassie swallows thickly. ‘– And your Dad. He’ll find you. _We’ll_ find you.’

A sickening crack fills the air, followed by a metallic dragging, and Cassie turns fearful eyes towards the doorway.

They’ve forced the door open a little. Not enough to get through, but enough to see in. There’s no way her makeshift barricade will last much longer.

 _Shit._  

She sniffs, trying to stop the tears and pull herself together.

Shit shit shit shit _shit._

 _Focus._  

The gap is wide enough for the Tall Man to peer through, gaze expertly surveying the situation and instantly realising what she’s doing. He sighs, almost disappointed. It sparks her latent anger, propelling her into motion once more.

‘Come now, Cassandra. Do you truly believe we won’t find you?’

She scoffs, still patting Felicity’s back as she walks over to the control panel. ‘Oh, I know you’ll get _me_. It’s not really me that I’m worried about.’

The horrified understanding that passes across his face then fills her with a vicious satisfaction.

 _Damn right. Bet you’re wishing you tethered her_ now _, asshole._

It takes her no time at all to program the machine; just a few expert taps at the keys and she’s set to go. A one-way trip, removing all temporal and spatial details as soon as the sequence completes itself. They’ll be able to pull Cassie back by her tether, but otherwise?

Untraceable.

(She’s been ready for _months._ )

‘You would put a baby through the agony of time travel? Your own child?’ the Tall Man asks, an edge creeping into his voice. Cassie looks down at the screaming bundle in her arms, smoothing a hand tenderly over her daughter’s angry red face.

She doesn’t want to. _Oh,_ how she doesn’t want to. It’s tearing her very insides apart. Time travel makes her feel shitty and nauseous and scarily out of breath, even now. She wouldn’t wish it upon anyone – let alone her own daughter. 

But she _has_ to.

It’s the only way.

‘Better than the agony of destroying the world,’ Cassie murmurs, her eyes raking over her baby’s delicate features. The petite version of her own nose, eyes that are unmistakably Cole’s… she just stares, soaking in the miraculous sight hungrily as though it’s the last time she’ll ever see it.

(She tries not to think about how true that might turn out to be.)

‘You cannot stop what has already happened,’ another voice cries out from the doorway. Cassie’s brow furrows at the intrusion of this moment. ‘It has been spoken! The Word of –’

‘– Yeah, yeah, The Word of the Witness. I know.’ Stroking a hand across Felicity’s wispy hair, Cassie walks her over to the machine, setting her carefully down on the chair. The large seat positively _dwarves_ the swaddled girl. 

She feels nauseous. 

‘Just giving her a chance at some different words,’ she murmurs, more to herself than anyone, as she runs a soothing hand over Felicity’s belly. The sight of the tiny baby anywhere near this machine… it’s just sickening.

 _She’s so small. This isn’t_ right ** _._**

(But then, it’s been a long, long time since anything has really been right.) 

‘I’ll be right behind you,’ Cassie whispers fiercely. Belatedly realising she’s been separated from her mother’s warmth, Felicity cries and cries and cries.

_God._

‘I’ll see you soon.’

Forcing herself to turn her back, Cassie strides over to the controls before she loses her resolve. A broken sob rips from her throat.

 _It’s for her,_ she reminds herself desperately, repeating it almost like a mantra. _It’s the only way to save her._

_It’s the only way to save **the world.**_

The Army’s efforts at the door redouble, urgency ramped up in light of her obvious determination, but it’s too late for them, now. Cassie knows it. They won’t follow her daughter; they _can’t_. 

It’s too late. 

‘No – ’

‘ – Mother – ’

‘ – Stop her!’

_‘The Witness!’_

Gritting her teeth, Cassie initiates the splinter sequence.

The yells and sirens continue to sound outside, people desperately throwing themselves at the door, but she doesn’t even look at them. She can’t tear her eyes away from the hideously familiar sight before her.

She can’t tear her eyes away from her baby girl.

The machine’s glare grows brighter, forcing Cassie to avert her eyes.

Felicity’s cries become higher in pitch.

And then –

Nothing.

Cassie opens her eyes.

Her daughter is gone.

(She feels empty.)

Slamming the pre-programmed button for her own travel, Cassie shakily makes her way up to the machine and lowers herself – God, _painfully_ – into the chair. As the machine begins to whir once more, she glances towards the door.

It’s still holding. Only just, but it’s still holding. 

 _Holy shit,_ Cassie thinks dully. She might actually pull this off.

( _No. I_ will _pull this off._ )

‘Don’t do this,’ the Tall Man warns through the gap, one of his airy, threatening grins firmly in place. It usually terrifies her, usually gives her shivers, but not right now. Not today.

Because today, she’s won. 

In this, perhaps their most significant battle yet, she’s won.

And maybe it means nothing in the long run – maybe it doesn’t even change anything – but for now, it’s all she can do.

 _She’s still fighting._  

Cassie smirks in victory, wicked satisfaction now rolling off her in waves. She tilts her head at him sweetly as the machine fires up. 

‘See you soon.’ 

And then –

Cassie splinters.

 

 

-

-

 

 

**YEAR 2014**

 

She doesn’t want to call Aaron.

Cassie sighs, tiredly pushing the hair out of her face with one hand as she trudges up her building’s staircase. Hell, she knows she probably should. Haiti got intense, in a way none of the other places have yet, so some company might do her some good tonight. He’d probably appreciate hearing that she got back home safe and sound too, come to think of it, but…

He’d have questions.

(He always, _always_ , has questions.) 

And she just can’t take that; not tonight. Not after what she’s been through, when her very being feels fragile and shaky and not wholly present.

What she needs is a shower, Cassie decides, walking up the last of her stairs and approaching her apartment door. She rifles around in her duffel for her keys, allowing her mind to stray – but still, keeping it pointedly away from the horrors she’s just left behind her.

A shower will do nicely, she repeats to herself more firmly, searching hand finally finding purchase on her keys. A shower, a couple of sleeping pills, at least fourteen hours of oblivion, and then she might even consider charging her phone. In that order.

Because right now? All she wants is to forget.

To forget _everything._

Clearly time is not currently on her side, though, because the lights begin to flicker, the air growing somehow heavier and staticky ( _oh no no no no no no no)_ and before she knows it, hysterical cries fill the air. She startles so violently that she drops her keys. 

What the –

She looks down the hallway to the source of the sound, and…

A baby.

Jesus _Christ_ , that’s a baby. 

Just lying there on the ground.

A baby.

Had that been there before? Surely there’s no way she missed something so _loud_ , even in her state of distraction.

Then the lights flicker again, and a person materialises out of thin air.

Just –

Appears.

The cloaked figure immediately bends to pick up the distressed baby, bouncing her a few times before turning to look at Cassie and –

Holy _shit_.

Cassie’s eyebrows shoot upwards.

It’s her. 

It’s _Cassie._

She looks older, for sure – there are stress lines on her face, and a seemingly ancient fatigue fills her eyes. She’s also dressed strangely, in a cloak that looks like it should be a costume, only it’s just a little too worn-in for that. An odd sort of dress clings to her body, showing proportions that are a bit… _off._ So there are definite differences.

But there’s no mistaking it.

Cassie is staring across at… Cassie. 

At herself.

And Other-Cassie is frantically trying to quiet a fussing baby.

‘Impossible,’ Cassie breathes.

Other-Cassie glances up at her, pursing her lips in agreement. Behind the desperation clearly written into her face, sympathy shines through.

_Holy…_

‘I’m so sorry to do this to you, but I can’t really explain right now. I just need you to trust me, okay? Can you do that?’

Cassie continues to stare.

 _‘Cassie,’_ her doppelgänger demands, voice suddenly sharp. 

‘I’ve lost my mind,’ she replies. She shakes her head in disbelief. ‘I’ve lost it.’

It’s the only explanation that makes sense. She’s tired: from the past year, from Haiti, from her flights. She must be hallucinating. This is a trick. It’s not real.

There’s just no other way she’s talking to her future self.

 _You know there is,_ that nagging voice in the back of her mind reminds her. _You know there’s a way this is happening. You_ know _._  

Other-Cassie clears her throat, interrupting Cassie’s thoughts. ‘I need you to look after her. My – um, _our?_ Our daughter.’

_Daughter._

Cassie blinks back at her slowly, jolting herself out of her stupor. ‘I’m – I’m sorry, our _what?_ ’ 

Said baby is still screaming her lungs out. Cringing, Other-Cassie steps forward a little.

‘I know it’s a lot to ask, especially right now…’ There’s knowledge in her eyes, and Cassie’s suddenly struck by an absurd pang of self-consciousness. She’s been a mess lately; it’s glaringly obvious, she knows. It’s not as though she’s been doing much to hide it. But the knowledge reflected back at her here feels like _more_. It feels like _experience._

Comprehension tickles at the edges of her consciousness. Distractedly, she thinks of Cole.

Then she shakes her head.

‘I don’t… I don’t understand.’

Other-Cassie presses her lips together briefly, considering. ‘Yeah, you do.’

 _Yeah,_ Cassie thinks. _She does._  

This is time travel.

_Oh, to hell with it._

‘What… year, are you from?’ she tries, ignoring how insane it sounds. She – her future self _(?!)_ – shoots her a tired grin through her breathlessness, a hint of pride for her younger self shining through.

‘2015, if you can believe it.’

_2015._

No.

No way.

She gets pregnant _next year_?

With… 

Her heart lurches unpleasantly.

With _Aaron?_

Cassie drops her duffel bag with a resounding _thump_. ‘But –’

‘– But I just came from 2163,’ Other-Cassie interrupts.

Cassie’s jaw drops open.

_Over a century in the future?_

She shakes her head as though to clear it. ‘Wait, no, hold on…’

But Other-Cassie only steps closer still, expression bleeding urgency.

‘I want to tell you more, but we’re running out of time. You just – you need to protect her with your life, do you hear me?’ Her eyes are shining with ferocity, and Cassie has the errant thought that she hadn’t even known her face could look that fierce.

But that doesn’t even _rate_ on the list of calamitous events currently taking place, such as her future self _handing her a baby_.

_Time out._

‘I can’t… I can’t look after a _baby_.’ Cassie closes her eyes in disbelief. ‘Jesus, I wouldn’t even know – ’

‘ – People are going to come for her. You have to stop them.’

Wait, what?

‘What – what _people_ – ’

‘ – You have to. Believe me when I say this: she is _all_ that matters. The fate of the entire world depends upon it.’

What the _fuck?_

‘Who is – wait – when are you coming back?’ Heartbreak splits across Other-Cassie’s face, and horrible understanding suddenly dawns. Cassie gentles her voice, even though she doesn’t fully understand why. ‘You _are_ coming back, aren’t you?’

Other-Cassie drops her gaze to the baby.

‘When it’s safe,’ she murmurs.

Cassie almost staggers backwards under the weight of that.

_What the hell happens to her in the future?_

Then Other-Cassie hisses sharply in pain, the slightest bit of blood leaking from her nose. Concern shooting through her, Cassie rushes forward.

‘Geez, are you alright?’

Other-Cassie shakes her head and meets Cassie’s eyes frantically. ‘They’re pulling me back. Here, take her.’

This is ridiculous.

There’s no logic to this whatsoever.

It’s a terrible idea.

It’s a _disaster._

But she finds herself reaching for the baby anyway.

The second they draw close enough, however, Cassie’s head seems to explode with a sudden migraine, everything within her tugging and agonising. Gasping, Cassie raises her hand to her temple, cringing through the pain even as the baby is pushed into her free arm. As soon as Other-Cassie jumps back, the pain fades away to a dull ache. She offers an apologetic grimace by way of explanation.

‘Paradox,’ is all she provides.

 _Of course,_ Cassie thinks dryly. Then the screaming bundle in her arms quiets a little and she looks down to see –

Oh.

It’s…

She’s cute. She’s a cute baby.

Cassie’s insides melt temporarily, just until her brain catches up with her and starts blaring warning alarms.

This is a baby.

A _baby._

An actual human being, depending upon her for everything.

What the hell does she know about taking care of babies? She can’t even take care of _herself_ right now. 

The lights flicker, and panic begins to claw its way up Cassie’s throat. Other-Cassie just backs away sadly, eyes glued to her daughter.

_God._

Why is Other-Cassie not more panicked? Why is she so resigned to her fate? 

‘Wait!’ Cassie cries out, catching her older self’s attention. Wild, she blurts out, ‘What’s her name?’ 

Then, something extraordinary happens: her harried-looking future self _smiles._ Truly, genuinely smiles this time, pride shining out from her expression. 

It’s positively spellbinding. And Cassie recognises it for what it is.

_A mother’s love._

‘Felicity,’ she murmurs. ‘Her name is Felicity.’

Then the lights flicker again, and – just like that – Cassie is alone once more. 

With a crying baby in her arms.

A crying baby that apparently belongs to her.

(Yep. She is definitely not calling Aaron.)

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Title from 'Rivers Through The Dust' by Radical Face, which is a great song for Cassie and Cole and their entire situation. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!! 
> 
> (tumblr: @imperfectlychaotic)


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